


To Trust a Friend

by CatherineS



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1992-01-01
Updated: 1992-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-01 12:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherineS/pseuds/CatherineS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a season one story that is basically just Avon/Blake. It's a typical first time story and tends to be very sweet. Avon in this story is very considerate toward Blake whom he feels very protective towards. It's about 8 pages long.  Previously Published in	 the fanzine Rebel Desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Trust a Friend

            "Status, Zen?"

            "Liberator is traveling at Standard by Two, on a heading directly away from Federation space. All functions are normal. Status is firm."

            "Thank you, Zen."

            Believing himself unobserved, Avon allowed a smile to grace his lips. _I fear Blake's anthropomorphizing is contagious,_ he chided himself. _Being polite to a computer! Next, I'll be calling Zen `he.'_

            "Enjoying yourself?"

            Avon spun round, caught by surprise, to see a smug blonde pilot standing by the flight controls.

            "Surprised? It is, after all, my watch, Avon."  Jenna spoke smoothly, pleased to have startled the perennially suspicious comp tech.

            Avon reined in his temper. _You won't trap me that easily, Jenna. Your animosity is showing, and whether you admit it or not, know the cause. Simple jealousy._ He decided on a tactful retreat.

            "I hope you enjoy it as much as I did mine."      Avon's voice was silky and a predatory smile flashed across his face as he brushed by Jenna. "By the way, have you seen Blake?"

Feigning innocence, he was secretly delighted at the angry flush that his words brought to the woman's cheeks.

            "No," she returned. "He said that he was tired. He's probably asleep."

            Jenna turned away from Avon's pointed stare.

            "I see."

            Jenna's head jerked up to watch him leave and Avon thought, _If looks could kill... She's so besotted and Blake so obviously doesn't notice._ He shook his head in bemusement. _How can you be so stupid, Blake? Unless..._ A stray thought invaded Avon's orderly train. _Unless, you are simply not interested? Now there is an intriguing concept. If Jenna is not what you need, then who amongst your crew is?_ Avon slowed his progress, lost in chasing down his theory.

            _Cally?_ The dark-haired man felt a twinge of jealousy which he ruthlessly cut down. _No, she was too alien. An idealist but too invasive._ He absently rubbed his hands. _Gan then? Or_ _Vila_ _?_ _Gan was certainly Blake's physical equal_ , Avon thought with a flicker of desire. _But mentally... Probably not. Blake seemed to want an intellectual challenge as well. Perhaps_ _Vila_ _... oh, he was quick and had a sharp wit but he followed Blake with too much devotion. The thief was a coward at heart and Blake could be vicious when defending his beloved cause._

              Avon stopped his musings when he noticed where his wandering had taken him. There he was, contemplating Blake's sex life, outside Blake's cabin.

            _This is ridiculous_.

            Avon strode off down the corridor to his own quarters, locking the door behind him with a sense of relief. He contemplated removing his clothes but that brought on thoughts of Blake again. Disgusted with his lack of control, Avon laid down and tried to relax.

            Unfortunately, as soon as his eyes drifted shut, he was confronted by the image of a sleeping Blake. Avon sighed. _All right. Follow through the idea and maybe it will go away_. He let the vision of Blake fill his mind. The burly rebel was sound asleep, sprawled on his back, one arm out flung, the other pulled tight to his chest. Avon felt his breath quicken. Blake's smooth skin glistened as his chest rose and fell. Avon's dream-gaze shifted to where the bed sheets pulled tight across Blake's hips.

            "Damn," Avon gasped, sitting up abruptly. He was sweating profusely and he was so hard that the ache was unbearable. With a muttered curse about "Bleeding-heart rebels that were too sensual for their own good," Avon got up. Yanking his clothes off, he stepped into the shower. As the cold water sprayed over his too-hot body his tension eased, leaving him relatively comfortable but unsatisfied. Drying himself off, he eyed the bed distastefully. _I think not_. Tossing the towel into the recycling chute, he reached for fresh clothes. Sealing the shoulder clasp, he decided on a trip to the galley. Perhaps a hot drink would help here...   It certainly was preferable to lying here...  To thinking about  him. Avon took a deep calming breath. Releasing the privacy lock, he left his cabin and headed for the galley.

            Passing by Blake's quarters again, Avon slowed his pace. Perhaps Blake wasn't sleeping. He might be willing to join him for an early breakfast. _An argument with Blake would surely relieve my frustration. It is never hard to goad him and I'll feel better even if doesn't._ Avon stopped. Selfishly preparing to disturb the sleeping rebel but before he could request admittance, a choked-off scream pierced the silence of the corridor. Blake! It was unmistakably Blake's voice. Without thinking, Avon entered the unlocked cabin. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Blake was thrashing around on the bed as though struggling against imaginary bonds. He was obviously in the grip of some horrible nightmare. Beaded in sweat, tears tracking down his cheeks, he continued to struggle. Avon approached cautiously.

            "Blake?"

            The rebel muttered, giving no sign that he heard Avon who was concerned.  Avon moved to his side, sitting on the bed and reaching for the other man's hands.

            _Gods, this is awful. What did they do to you, Blake? To reduce you to this._

            "Relax, Blake. It will be all right. You are not alone anymore." Avon spoke softly, soothingly, trying to calm the half-conscious rebel.

            "I won't... can't... please, no..."

            Blake's words were gasped out, all his natural authority gone. They were the words of a frightened child.

            "Blake."

            Avon spoke quietly but firmly, tightening his grip. Suddenly, Blake jerked away, his face contorting as though in agony.

            "Nooo!" His scream was horrible, painful to hear, that of a man driven beyond all endurance. Avon's eyes went wide in shock.

            "Stop it, Blake," he shouted, shaking the larger man roughly. When Blake, whose eyes were now as wide as Avon's, still looked blank, Avon slapped him hard across the cheek. Blake cried out, raising a hand to protect his face. Avon sat still, breathing heavily. _What have I done?_ He looked down at his delicate, sensitive hands, clenching them tightly.

            "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

            Avon watched as Blake peered up. His eyes were clear, if confused, but he quickly looked away.

            "What are you doing here, Avon?"

            Avon felt his face flush.

            "I was on my way to the galley and I heard you call out." Blake appeared about to comment but then he shivered and glanced away. Avon was decidedly uncomfortable. Yet, he didn't want to leave Blake alone. If he were honest with himself he would have to admit that he cared for the man. His feelings were not simply those of lust. _If our roles were reversed now, Blake, what would you do? Try and comfort me?_

            "Blake?"

            The rebel stared up in surprise at Avon's tentative tone.

            "Do you want to tell me about it?"

            Avon's voice was soft, without his usual sarcasm and it clearly left Blake confused. Dark eyes watched as Blake wavered, the emotional toll telling on his face.

            "Avon?" The rest of the words came out in a husky rush. "Can you please just hold me?"

            The helplessness of Blake's request tugged at Avon's heart and, knowing he would probably regret it, still he pulled the larger man into a chaste embrace. Blake returned Avon's hold with desperation, burying his face in his friend's shoulder. His big frame shook and he trembled in Avon's grasp, causing Avon to tighten his grip.

            "You are safe here, Blake. Relax."

            Avon rubbed his hands gently across the broad back, comforting as best he could, pleased when the tremors stilled. _This is  getting a little uncomfortable_ , thought Avon. Holding Blake this tightly... and his skin so smooth and...  Avon tried hard to clamp down on his rising desire. _Not now!_ Blake needed comfort not sex. Blake pulled back and Avon sighed in relief.

            "I'm sorry, Avon. I realize that you..."

            "Shh." Avon placed two fingers against Blake's lips. "You don't need to apologize."

            Blake's eyes were bright with astonishment. Avon being nice?

            "It was the conditioning." Avon's voice was gentle, not his usual demanding tone, and Blake responded gratefully.

            "Yes. I keep remembering... when they took my memories..."

            Blake stopped, bowing his head, fighting for control. Avon's hand snaked out and captured his chin, tilting Blake's head until their eyes met.

            I understand, Roj. You don't need to go on."

            Avon watched as Blake's expression changed. Fear and hopelessness were replaced by puzzlement which was chased away by a dawning realization. Avon again, felt his cheeks flush. _So now he knows. The question that remains is now up to him_.

            Avon looked down to see that Blake had taken hold of his hands. Glancing up through thick dark lashes, he saw no fear in Blake's eyes. They looked soft and inviting. As soft as Blake's full lips that were parted as if he were breathing heavily.

            "Avon?" Blake's voice was husky and it sent a shiver down the smaller man's spine. "Kiss me?"

            Blake asked as though he expected to be refused. But Avon smiled disarmingly and leaned forward, brushing the Blake's lips ever so gently, a hand stealing upwards to tangle in riotous curls. After a moment, Avon pulled back, not wanting to be too aggressive when Blake was obviously unable, or unwilling, to deny him. The rebel's skin was so warm to the touch. Avon himself, was sweating hot and cold. He was so aroused that he was afraid. Afraid for Blake. _Please be sure, Blake. Because I don't think I can keep restraining myself._ Blake seemed to sense his unease and he pulled Avon closer to whisper into his ear. "I need you, Avon. Stay with me?"

            Avon smiled softly and Blake was clearly struck by the dark dangerous beauty of his companion.

            "Of course, Roj."

            Avon leaned close, feathering kisses along the larger man's jaw from ear to mouth. Tracing the full lips with his tongue, he pressed tighter as Blake's mouth opened beneath him. Avon heard himself moan as he felt Blake's erection pushing hard against his thigh. As he broke away, struggling for breath, Blake gasped out.

            "You called me `Roj.'  Twice." His face was oddly triumphant.

            "That is your personal name and these are intimate circumstances, are they not?"

            "Oh yes, they are indeed," Blake replied hotly.

            Avon's heart skipped a beat at the passion underlying Blake's words. And his ensuing actions as he flipped Avon over, raising himself to look down into Avon's eyes. Lowering himself, Blake pressed his lips to Avon's, taking his breath away. The slender man, awash in sensation, barely noticed as the layers of leather separating them were being peeled away. He gasped as his shirt was yanked off, followed immediately by his pants. _Impatient, are we not? I thought this was my idea in the first place._ But he was content to let Blake take the lead. For now.

            Avon looked up into soft brown eyes, sinking his hands into the other man's curls, pulling him down into a searing kiss. As Blake's questing tongue invaded his mouth, Avon sucked, causing him to moan in surprised pleasure.

            Avon watched Blake through half-slitted eyes as the rebel placed tiny kisses and bites across his chest, stroking his highly sensitized body with his luxuriant curls. He gritted his teeth and struggled to remain still, not wanting to lose Blake's touch for even a moment.

            "Blake. Don't"

            Blake stopped pausing to breathe softly into Avon's navel, making the smaller man twist deliciously beneath him.

            "Ticklish?"

            There was a mischievous smile on Blake's face and it made Avon decidedly uneasy. He glared back at his lover.

            "No."

            As Blake opened his mouth to protest his partner's lack of honesty, Avon pushed hard, tumbling them over until he rested atop Blake.  Tracing a finger down Blake's face, he caressed lips, moving down and across the broad, baby-soft skin of his chest. Blake squirmed and Avon flashed an evil smile.

            "Who is ticklish now?"

            Capturing Blake's hands, Avon held them above his head as he licked his way across the silky skin. Reaching a nipple, he bit down gently, Blake's sharp intake of breath echoing in his ears. Raising himself up, he looked down upon a fantasy fulfilled.

            Blake's face was flushed with excitement, lips parted and eyes clouded by desire. Avon felt his much-denied heart swell. _It's already too late for me. I love you, Blake. I may never admit it to you, but I do_. He continued to stare down at his lover, turning his head slightly as Blake reached up to brush his fingertips across Avon's cheek.

            "Avon?"

            Avon smiled at the hidden question in the other man's voice. Bringing Blake's wrist to his lips, he spoke gently, breath tickling Blake's sensitive skin.

            "Do you want to go on?"

            Avon looked away until he felt warm hands enclose his face, forcing him to match the larger man's gaze. Blake's eyes were liquid tenderness, swirled with desire.

            "Yes. I want you."

            Those few words, softly but firmly spoken, made Avon's world spin out of control. Pressing the length of his body to Blake's,  he traced his hands down Blake's back to his ass. Seizing the round buttocks, he ground their erections together, Blake's moans filling his ears. Gasping with excitement, Avon pulled back, slipping between Blake's heavily muscled legs and taking his cock in hand. Stroking slowly, he watched the man's arousal build. But if he was going to continue...

            "Roj. Do you have any lubricant?"

            Blake, distracted by Avon's question, stared at him in exasperation. When Avon showed no intention of resuming his activities, Blake groaned and reached for the bedside table. Retrieving a small tube, he turned to his expectant partner. Avon opened his hand to receive it but Blake ignored his outstretched hand, squeezing the cream into his own. Leaning in for a kiss, he closed his fist around Avon's aching cock, slicking it down, the friction of his touch making his lover dizzy with mounting passion. Avon drew his hand away.

            "Stop. You're far too accomplished at that."

            Blake grinned innocently. "I thought that was the idea."

            Avon's eyes narrowed in mock ferociousness and Blake laughed. In response, Avon tugged on his curls and resumed his position between the rebel's legs. Transferring some of the moisture from his cock to his fingers, he carefully probed between Blake's buttocks until they achieved their goal. Easing one in past the muscular resistance, he watched for the man's reaction. Blake's erection begged for attention and he relaxed as Avon massaged the penis with his free hand. The slender tech was reassured by the jolt of pleasure that crossed Blake's face as his finger brushed the prostate. Slowly, Avon withdrew his finger and, pulling Blake's legs up to rest against his shoulders, replaced it with his cock.

            He winced, not only at the pressure around his buried organ, but at Blake's painful grip on his shoulders. Stilling all movement except that of his hand on his lover's cock, Avon looked down, concern written plainly on his features.

            "Blake, do you want me to stop?"

            _Please don't say `yes.' I need you, Blake. But I don't want to hurt you._ Avon leaned in, brushing his cheek against Blake's.

            "Blake?"

            Avon was trembling now, from his efforts to remain still, to refrain from thrusting. _This isn't going to work,_ he thought in despair. Bracing himself to withdraw, he was shocked when Blake drew him forward, impaling himself completely on Avon's desire.

            "Yes," Blake sighed, all traces of pain gone from his face.

            Avon began to move, slowly thrusting, then picking up momentum as his partner lifted his hips up to meet him. Feverishly, he continued to pump Blake's throbbing penis. _Together Blake. We'll finish it together._ He gasped as Blake tightened on his cock, clenching tightly as the rebel spilled his fluid across their stomachs. But his cries of release were immediately joined by Avon's as he bathed Blake's insides. Avon collapsed across Blake, whose legs had slipped down so that he was spread-eagled among the twisted bedclothes.

            As awareness returned to them both, Avon levered himself off, allowing Blake to breathe freely as he gathered him into his embrace.  Blake's big arms closed tightly around him in turn as Blake buried his face in Avon's neck.

            "Avon, I..."

            At Avon's inscrutable gaze, Blake faltered.

            _Accept him, you idiot!_ screamed the voice in Avon's mind. _He needs you as much as you need him._ Combing a hand through the brown curls, Avon sighed.

            "What do you wish to say, Blake?"

            Blake was nervously chewing a finger and glanced away from Avon's penetrating gaze. Suddenly, Avon snatched the finger from his mouth, bringing it to his own lips. He licked delicately at the tip enjoying Blake's reaction.

            "I love you."

            Avon froze. Blake's face was deeply flushed and his eyes were wide, innocently trusting. Avon's heart was pounding as he looked helplessly at the rebel. _Can I give you that kind of control? I would be giving you my soul._ Again, he found himself sinking deeply into Blake's gaze, enraptured by the gentle love and compassionate caring that seemed so much a part of the man. Avon's words were whispered so faintly, Blake barely heard them.

            "As I you."

            Blake's embrace was fiercely protective and Avon shivered in his arms, tightening his own grip on the rebel's shoulders.

            "I thought I was supposed to be comforting you," Avon complained, wondering at how fast the tables had turned in their relationship but not really minding.

            Blake lazily stroked a hand down the smaller man's back, making him shiver in anticipation.

            "I decided to return the favour. Any objections?"

            Avon considered all his self-proclaimed reasons for staying on _Liberator,_ for opposing Blake's authority... and how it felt to be held by him, embraced by his powerful arms. Even without the sex, he had been trapped by his unadmitted love for the rebel leader. And now he had admitted it, at least to Blake. No, he had no objections. This was where he belonged. He smiled in realization and reached up to trace Blake's full lips with a fingertip.

            "Love me, Roj."

            Blake's smile was blinding in intensity as he bent to kiss his lover.

            "I do, Avon. I do."

                                  _We are the music-makers_

_And we are the dreamers of dreams,_

_Wandering by lone sea-breakers,_

_And sitting by desolate streams;_

_World-losers and world forsakers,_

_On whom the pale moon gleams;_

_Yet we are the movers and shakers_

_Of the world forever, it seems._

                                                                        Arthur O Shaughnessy

* * *


End file.
